What Lies Beneath
by Ready Or Notxx
Summary: Sequel to Heaven's A Lie. A year goes by. You'd think everything was perfect in their new lives together. Until you hear of Adam's dirty little secret. A/L. T for strong language and mild sexual themes.
1. What You Can't Hide From

Warning: This story is a **SEQUEL **to my other fic, Heaven's A Lie. If you haven't already read it, you will probably be extremely confused. So I implore you to read the first one.

Okay, I bet you weren't expecting this, anybody! (Well, maybe you were. Hopefully not, so I can surprise you.) But SawManiac211 pitched me an idea for a Lawrence/Adam/Hoffman sequel so… I just started thinking about an idea for it. And I wanted to write it. So if you don't support homosexual love triangles and/or Adam/Hoffman, please don't flame me. Any who, let the (maybe) epic story begin!

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**What Lies Beneath**

**1: What You Can't Hide From**

The nightmares.

They usually don't last that long, thank _God _they don't last that long.

Maybe Adam's supposed to consider that as some sort of blessing, as some sort of torch in a dark cave. Maybe he's supposed to be thankful or grateful or whatever. Because at least that's a pro on his list of cons.

He supposes.

Another pro that he _knows _is a pro is the fact that he knows Lawrence will be there when the nightmares are over, knows that Lawrence will roll over and wrap arms around his waist. Maybe stroke his hair and whisper all sorts of comforting things in his ear. It's good that he has at least some sort of sanctuary. Some sort of comforting thing he can go to when he's sobbing and his worst fears are swimming back and forth in his brain.

That's the good part. Thank God there's an actual good part, even though the "bad parts" are pretty much a swarming pit of hell inside of Adam's head. A fucking apocalypse or 2012, even though he doesn't believe in that sort of thing.

Maybe the fact that there's a good part is to make up for a fact that since the second game, Adam's nightmares have gotten so much worse, left him with shaking hands and cold sweat and a burning fear that this was all real once. That he did in fact wake up in a cage. That he did in fact almost drown in his own blood.

It's good that he has a little realization that it's not over.

That even though John Kramer is dead, even though Adam took a knife to his head repeatedly and killed him in a heat of passion, it's not over.

He stabbed Jigsaw repeatedly, just hated and stabbed and killed without any regret, without any remorse, without any sight of what he was doing from the blood blinding his eyes. He killed him, he killed a fucking serial killer.

And that should give him a feeling of power, or at least a feeling of pride, and he _was _proud of himself with Lawrence saying, _"I sure wouldn't have been able to kill him like that." _For a while, Lawrence's appreciative smile made Adam actually believe that he'd done the right thing, saved a lot of lives in advance.

But that didn't do a thing.

Didn't stop "Jigsaw worshippers" from worshipping the stupid serial killer.

Didn't do anything to stop the killings or, new games if you prefer, from happening. Didn't stop Adam from shivering and whimpering whenever he caught evidence of a new game from occurring on TV. It didn't stop Lawrence from frowning and putting his coffee mug back on the table in sheer disgust mixed with scorn for the old serial killer whom Adam had so brutally murdered.

Even though Jigsaw's dead, it didn't change much.

The games still continue. And the saddest part is…

Adam knows why they still continue. And it's not like he can do anything to stop it. If anything, he's a part of these games. He's just like Amanda was... A marionette in Jigsaw's puppet show. Another pawn in Jigsaw's chess game.

He can't tell Lawrence. He can only imagine what _he _might do if Adam told Lawrence… He can only imagine what a stupid, senseless idea that would be, and he can only imagine how much danger Lawrence would be in if he decided to tell him.

And even if he told him now, Adam's been keeping this secret for around a year, a year since the second game took place. Adam can only imagine how shocked or even angry Lawrence would be for keeping this from him for so long.

No, maybe Lawrence would get it. Understand why he can't tell him why he's hidden so many photos from Lawrence, understand that pig mask that he has hidden in the back of their closet stuffed in a shoebox. Maybe address the problem by talking to _him _about this… _"dire situation."_

It's a wonderful thing that Adam has Lawrence to go to, even though he could never tell Lawrence about the second half of his miserable life, never tell him what he's doing when Lawrence is at work.

There are just a few times where Adam has lost it, especially whenever Lawrence is working late and he's alone in their small apartment. There are just a few times where the photos he takes causes him to overstress him and cause him to vomit just because he can't control himself.

There are just a few times where Adam has clawed his arms up so bad that beads of blood start to form, just a few times where just smoking cigarettes hasn't helped him even a little. Because a recurring voice, smooth but deep, has been etched into his conscious and subconscious mind so deep that he can't forget it, he can't stop himself from laying on his and Lawrence's bed and sobbing.

_Hello, Adam._

The voice still walks in his dreams, still haunts him even though Adam sees _him _just about every day.

_You don't even know me, but you will. You see, we're going to be working closely from now on. You may not realize this, but I need you just about as much as you need Lawrence._

Even his sweaty palms pressed against his ears isn't enough to make the voice shut up, isn't enough to make Adam stop shaking.

_I need you. And I know that strange fact is going to make you shake a little, but without you, I cannot achieve my goals. I promise that as long as you follow my instructions, Dr. Gordon will remain unharmed. I will not touch him if you do as exactly as I say._

Today, Adam sits on his bed and holds an envelope in both shaking hands, the voice running through his head once again.

_You are a voyeur. That's what you waste your life for._

He takes a deep, quivering breath. He stands up, knees shaking, before he walks straight out the door with the envelope.

_Now you will put that sin to good use, Adam Faulkner._

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This is pretty much a really crappy prologue. XD Hmm, bet you wonder what's happening? XD Nah, I bet you can probably figure it out.

So… I'm providing you with a sequel! XD Provide me with a review! :D Please?


	2. Anything for Lawrence

Hehe… Hello, everyone. I am finally able to update this freaky fic. :D Question: Who likes the pairing of Adam/Evan? In case you haven't read it, I made a oneshot involving that pairing (advertisement-cough-) so you should check it out.

SO! ON WITH CHAPTER TWO!

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"_You feel so lonely and ragged  
You lay here broken and naked  
My love is just waiting  
To clothe you in crimson roses."  
-Whispers in the Dark, Skillet_

_****_**2: Anything for Lawrence**

_The lights. They flickered on, so bright that Adam's eyes opened completely involuntary. He glanced around the room, his small frame restricted, restricted, and Lawrence was nowhere near him!_

_Okay._

He just had to calm down, tell himself that this was all a dream. It's not like…

_Oh God._

_It's not like Jigsaw could just magically raise himself from the dead. It's not right, that kind of thing just doesn't happen. You can't die and come back to life._

_Why?_

_Why was this happening again? To Adam? Why couldn't it be somebody else, why could't Jigsaw and Amanda pick on somebody else for a change and just leave Adam and Lawrence alone? Why couldn't he just let them be happy?_

_Adam was trying to be good. Trying to quit smoking and trying to be a suitable companion to Lawrence, never let the older man down. Why couldn't Jigsaw just see that and leave them alone? They weren't doing anything wrong anymore. They were both happy men, capable of following whatever stupid rules Jigsaw laid down for them._

_Okay._

_Adam was alone, his arms and legs bound to a chair by belts, with absolutely no means of escape. Great, great, great. So Jigsaw's plan was to torture him._

_How can this even be happening? Jigsaw's dead. _

I killed him, _Adam told himself, his breath coming out quick and panicked, sharp and heavy, fast until it actually started to hurt his chest. Glancing around at the familiar surroundings of his crappy, coffee-stained couch and dart board on the wall, Adam knew he was still at home._

_But where was Lawrence?_

_Shit._

"_Lawrence!" Adam called out, jerking forward, wincing in pain when the belts dug into his wrists. He cursed and spat as he writhed around in that small seat, the room dim, only a small table lamp turned on._

"_Shh."_

_Adam immediately swung his head to look at a masked figure standing next to the closet door. Pig mask. What a surprise. The figure was dressed in entirely black—black jeans, black hoodie. The figure just stood there, leaving Adam wondering if he was really real. If he wasn't just a figment of the little guy's imagination._

_He whimpered. Adam whimpered, "I-I'm sorry, Jigsaw, I'm sorry… I'm sorry I killed you, I just wasn't thinking straight…" His lip trembled. God, he must've looked like such a pathetic baby, whimpering and crying._

_A chuckle._

_It made Adam shiver, made his tremors increase. _

_Immortal. Jigsaw couldn't be, but here he was. Point blank in front of Adam, back from the dead to take him back to the bathroom. Back into the dark, where no one would hear his crying and screaming and banging on the walls, hear him begging for Lawrence._

_He was back. Somehow, he was back. Jigsaw was back, ready to make Adam rue the day he ever crossed the old, deranged serial killer._

"_Hello there, Adam."_

"_Where's Lawrence?"_

_It came out. Popped out. That was the most important question for Adam to ask. Adam could die here, that would be okay, that would be acceptable. After all, it was Lawrence who went through hell for him last time, climbed into needles and fought through a stabbing pain. Lawrence needed to be the one protected this time._

_The figure didn't answer._

_Adam felt his face heat up even more, covered with hot, sticky sweat and an uprising spark of rage that might've just torn those belts right off of him if he hadn't been so damn weak. "If you touch Lawrence, I. WILL. Kill. You. Again. I mean it. I WILL kill you, Jigsaw."_

"_I'm not Jigsaw."_

_Adam's eyes widened, and suddenly, something resurfaces._

_Right._

_The shower curtain._

_The heart._

_Red paint._

_All the time ago._

_How had he forgotten about that, something so crucial, something that meant that he and Lawrence were still being watched? How had he let that escape his mind so easily?_

_The man pulled off the mask, revealing himself to be a man… Maybe about Lawrence's age. Muscular and rather good-looking, tall with blue eyes and dark, wavy hair. He smiled at Adam, and it wasn't… It wasn't an Amanda Smile, a smile sharp and venomous, a smile that had to belong to a snake. No, this sort of smile wasn't sarcastic._

_In fact, it looked rather… Friendly._

_That made Adam want to die._

_You can't trust that smile from serial killers. You know it's a lie, a big fat fucking bullshit lie, and you know you're going to get cut and ripped apart somehow._

"_In fact, I'd really like you to know that I'm not going to touch Lawrence, Adam. I'm not going to harm you either. I just want to talk to you."_

"_Bullshit!"Adam snapped back, his wrists turning a sickly purplish-red color, stinging like the feeling of having a thousand little needles stuck in them. "You're his apprentice, aren't you? You're just like Amanda. You're the one who painted on the shower curtain."_

_The man nodded. "Yes. I am Jigsaw's apprentice, and yes, I painted on your shower curtain. However, I'd like you to know I'm not like Amanda at all."_

"_Well… then what are you like, then? Friendly?" Adam challenged harshly, jerking around in the chair._

"_Amanda believed that none of our test subjects deserved to live. She believed they were all far lower than her, that they all deserved to die. However, I think surviving test subjects can be useful." His smile gets wider. "Like you, for example. Your photography. You could take pictures of the victims for me, give me useful information like where they live and when they're not out and about. Right?"_

"_So?" Adam blinked, knowing perfectly well what the man meant._

"_My name is Mark Hoffman," the man went on. "I am a detective, and I was actually one of the detectives who brought you out of the bathroom. Remember?"_

_Adam squinted at him. Could it be true? Hoffman had helped save him before? At a loss and dumbstruck with his mouth wide open, Adam stutters blankly, "Wh-why? Why would you help me if you work with… Him?"_

_Hoffman shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't agree with John's—Jigsaw's—reasons for testing you the first time. I mean, you were apathetic, but so are most of us at times. Lawrence was whenever he neglected his wife and daughter, for example. I'm apathetic when I feel like going drinking instead of working on a case."_

_Was that supposed to be a joke?_

"_I agreed with him the second time, though, after I found about your ordeal with Alex Rose and Shawn Emery. You know. For the money. And I agree that you were kind of living inside a shell after the bathroom incident."_

_Adam blinked again. How did Hoffman know so much about him? Know that he'd killed his girlfriend's murderer so long ago? _

_Perhaps he was in a search party to find Alex and Shawn._

"_I didn't report you because I figured you could be fixed," Hoffman said, scratching the back of his head. "And I was right, Adam. The second game fixed you and fixed you well."_

"_What the hell do you want from me?" Adam whined, bringing down his head between his knees. God, if Hoffman wanted him dead, why didn't he just kill him already? Why keep going on and on?_

"_Look. You have a talent. You're a voyeur. It's a sin because you follow people around and you invade their privacy. You ruin people's lives. Now you will put that sin to good use." To good use? "You will work with me. You will be my apprentice. You will bring me photos and any other info I need about the test subjects."_

_Really._

_Really._

_Hoffman was telling _Adam _what to do? Ordering him around like he was some little kid? Who did he think he was, who did he think he was trying to be?_

"_No," Adam answered flatly, shaking his head._

"_Then let Lawrence die," Hoffman replied simply, mocking Adam by shaking his head. His smile formed into a smirk, the kind of smirk you see when a bully punches you square in the face. "This time, it's him who's on the line, not you. I'm not telling you you HAVE to bring me photos. I'm just saying that it would be a wise decision."_

_A straight razor._

_Adam hadn't noticed it before._

_But it was in Hoffman's hand the whole time, glistening, sharp. _

"_D-don't…" Adam rasped, his eyes widening. _

_He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to let the guilt of helping out a serial killer eat away at him, gnaw at him from the inside until he was just a shell, until maggots were eating from his heart and mind. Didn't want to wake up knowing he was responsible for helping cause the deaths of people he strongly believed could change without these cruel methods._

_But…_

_He'll do anything for Lawrence._

_Anyone who doesn't realize that by now is dumb._

_Anyone who doesn't realize that by now doesn't know that Adam loves Lawrence with all his heart and soul._

_And Lawrence actually has a life ahead of him, actually has a life that he has to keep on living._

_So it doesn't matter if Adam's life is wasted. It won't matter. _

Adam comes home, comes home today without the envelope. Slams the door and leans his head back against it, defeated.

He's been defeated.

So he lights a cigarette, doesn't let Lawrence know where he's been when the doctor gets home later, and doesn't sleep.

He doesn't sleep anymore.

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Whee! Hoffman/Adam! I hope I'm writing Hoffman in character… I've never written much about him before.


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